It is our dogs' sixth birthdays. I have been known to do silly things like have a party, but not this year. I will get them each a birthday dog biscuit and maybe new collars or something. They have a ridiculous amount of dog toys, and I don't give them people food, so a steak is out of the question. I think they have a very blurry concept of a birthday party, anyway. They know food can rain down from the people's table, especially if a certain granddaughter is present. They like the extra people around - they are both people dogs. They showed zero interest in the balloons for my husband's party. The balloons lay on the living room floor for a week, and they never even touched them.
So what do you do to tell them you're happy they were born? A nice snuggle with them on my bed while I'm reading, an extra walk, brushing their fur, but above all, biscuits. Their needs are astoundingly simple. All they ask is to be glued to us every minute and to eat every minute. Is that so much to ask? Of course, a compromise must always be made. It wouldn't be good for them to be obese, and it wouldn't be good for us to be 24/7 dog sitters. But on this day, I'll lean a little more their way. They may not know why, but they'll appreciate it. They are the best appreciators I know.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Old Age Day by Day September 29, 2010
I'm waiting for a friend. We're going to try quilting together. I'm excited about working on something with another person also engaged in similar work. I used to attend a collage workshop occasionally, and found it very helpful. I've been doing so many projects alone, that I'm ready again for group work. The Spanish class is fun, the chorus rehearsals are enlivening, and this sewing circle connects me to my grandmothers and my mother. I've never done this before, but I own quilts and knitted shawls made together with other women, with instant feedback and the good will of like minds energized and focused.
Work is mostly a social construct for many of us. But I'd kind of forgotten that, because I write completely alone with no interruptions, unless I choose to answer the phone. There is a time for silent, steady listening to what's inside my mind and heart, but I love, too, the collaborative efforts of creating with more than my own energy - drawing from the well of others. The quilting doesn't really matter, it's the engagement and support.
So whatever the result, the process of quilting will be valuable to me - a means of expressing what I may not know I have inside me, at my disposal now, with the help of friends.
Work is mostly a social construct for many of us. But I'd kind of forgotten that, because I write completely alone with no interruptions, unless I choose to answer the phone. There is a time for silent, steady listening to what's inside my mind and heart, but I love, too, the collaborative efforts of creating with more than my own energy - drawing from the well of others. The quilting doesn't really matter, it's the engagement and support.
So whatever the result, the process of quilting will be valuable to me - a means of expressing what I may not know I have inside me, at my disposal now, with the help of friends.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Old Age Day by Day September 28, 2010
I finished a book yesterday by a friend from graduate school, and she's been very successful. It's been exciting to see each book take a leap from the last one, and this book knocked my socks off. Set in the 1700s, it could almost be construed as a tale of a man who is autistic, and who comes to develop attachment to another human being, or as a story of a genius, or a man ahead of his time. It's based on a real person, which makes the life more amazing. And it's about the clash of cultures that occurred when the British founded a colony of prisoners in New South Wales. It resonated deeply for me, as a product of such culture clashes on both sides. It's so beautiful it makes my heart break a little.
My friend has worked steadily at her craft and stretched her wings and flown higher than she perhaps dreamed. She wins international awards, and yet is grounded and real. Her laugh is still a thing I treasure. She's a friend, but she has the world following her thoughts and feelings. What a strange concept, and how I can see that had I had her ability to focus and be persistent, I too might have developed into a fine writer. As it is, my interests have been too varied and my shyness too great to insist on being heard. Up until now, that is. As my Buddhist teacher reminds me: never say too late. I feel inspired.
My friend has worked steadily at her craft and stretched her wings and flown higher than she perhaps dreamed. She wins international awards, and yet is grounded and real. Her laugh is still a thing I treasure. She's a friend, but she has the world following her thoughts and feelings. What a strange concept, and how I can see that had I had her ability to focus and be persistent, I too might have developed into a fine writer. As it is, my interests have been too varied and my shyness too great to insist on being heard. Up until now, that is. As my Buddhist teacher reminds me: never say too late. I feel inspired.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Old Age Day by Day September 27, 2010
I saw a French movie late yesterday afternoon with my husband: Mademoiselle Cambon. He was reluctant, as he is not much of a foreign film guy, but since he often has me translate English language films, due to his not so good hearing, in a way, it's perfect for him to have subtitles. He didn't hate it, which was a relief, and enjoyed talking about it afterward. Maybe more than he enjoyed the movie. You know, not much action (well, actually, none), and a lot of silence and "looks". Not a typical guy kind of movie.
I found it soothing and profound, because it's ambition was to witness two people who are different enough to be interesting to each other, but also different enough that their worlds can never really entwine. They were both good people, trying to not hurt others or themselves, but by connecting at all, of course managing to do both. Life is messy. Every engagement with another person causes shifts and regrets and hopes and sadness. They glimpse a whole alternate universe in each other, but don't act it out, because they are decent.
To my thinking, the French are more successful at showing the lives of ordinary working people than us Americans. When we try, we make comedies and outsized characatures. French filmmakers understand real people, and they cast people with real, lived-in faces. We believe these people exist, we know them, we enter into their lives. I said to my husband, if Americans remake this film, they will cast Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt. That's an American's idea of ordinary. Not only do these beautiful people not represent us, they distract us from seeing ourselves and reflecting on our own lives.
So if you want a "slow" film with no gratuitous violence and no twists and turns, but just a small glimpse into the worlds of feeling regular people undergo, often unmarked by the people around them, then this is your film.
I found it soothing and profound, because it's ambition was to witness two people who are different enough to be interesting to each other, but also different enough that their worlds can never really entwine. They were both good people, trying to not hurt others or themselves, but by connecting at all, of course managing to do both. Life is messy. Every engagement with another person causes shifts and regrets and hopes and sadness. They glimpse a whole alternate universe in each other, but don't act it out, because they are decent.
To my thinking, the French are more successful at showing the lives of ordinary working people than us Americans. When we try, we make comedies and outsized characatures. French filmmakers understand real people, and they cast people with real, lived-in faces. We believe these people exist, we know them, we enter into their lives. I said to my husband, if Americans remake this film, they will cast Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt. That's an American's idea of ordinary. Not only do these beautiful people not represent us, they distract us from seeing ourselves and reflecting on our own lives.
So if you want a "slow" film with no gratuitous violence and no twists and turns, but just a small glimpse into the worlds of feeling regular people undergo, often unmarked by the people around them, then this is your film.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Old Age Day by Day September 26, 2010
Another late summer paradisical day. I want to soak in all this good weather to get me through the fall and winter. Soon it will be time to take in the outdoor chair pads and cover the picnic table and pull down the umbrella and store it. And after I do, inevitably there will be another heat spell and there will be nowhere to sit. Nature has a downright naughty sense of humor and likes to play jokes. Especially where I live. It's mean spirited not to laugh, so i just go along with the joke.
We like to think we can plan, be in control, and yet it's always that thing you can't anticipate that flummoxes you. I'm in great training, though, because having small grandchildren hones my skills as far as surprise and sneak attack is concerned. Plus, I have the dogs, who I thought were out in the back yard with me but they'd sneaked in the kitchen yesterday to steal and eat a bunch of bananas. Skins and all. The only evidence left was a bit of the top connecting the bunch and an organic sticker. Guilty as presumed, Watson.
So I try to go with the flow, old flower child that I am.
We like to think we can plan, be in control, and yet it's always that thing you can't anticipate that flummoxes you. I'm in great training, though, because having small grandchildren hones my skills as far as surprise and sneak attack is concerned. Plus, I have the dogs, who I thought were out in the back yard with me but they'd sneaked in the kitchen yesterday to steal and eat a bunch of bananas. Skins and all. The only evidence left was a bit of the top connecting the bunch and an organic sticker. Guilty as presumed, Watson.
So I try to go with the flow, old flower child that I am.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Old Age Day by Day Septembber 25, 2010
Today is the anniversary of my father's death. I was 41 when he died. So it's been 24 years. I was shellshocked from my mother's sudden death 10 months before, my favorite safehouse client's murder by her ex-husband, a move from one state to another, and getting 4 kids in various schools from preschool to high school. Yet I am forever grateful that Dad got to die at home, and we had the kind of talks you hope you get to have with a loved one who is dying. He planned his own funeral, and he let go swiftly and with his usual courage. He died on the sofa in his family room, looking out at the garden he was so proud of. I sat with him for several hours after his passing, and his countenance was peaceful.
I miss him. He died at exactly my age, which now seems much too soon, though it did then as well. We were moving back to be near him. Our kids were deeply attached to him. The loss was profound. He was such a fiery, passionate guy that it was hard to believe anything could lick him. It seemed hugely unfair.
He showed me how to leave with grace and kindness, without melodrama, and facing directly into the wind. He left me a path to follow.
I miss him. He died at exactly my age, which now seems much too soon, though it did then as well. We were moving back to be near him. Our kids were deeply attached to him. The loss was profound. He was such a fiery, passionate guy that it was hard to believe anything could lick him. It seemed hugely unfair.
He showed me how to leave with grace and kindness, without melodrama, and facing directly into the wind. He left me a path to follow.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Old Age Day by Day Septmember 24, 2010
My foster granddaughter and I played with dolls yesterday, and I enjoyed it as much as she did, I believe. The doll clothes were ones from my daughter, and the blankets and quilts ones I'd made for her dolls. Luckily, even that long ago, velcro was prevalent, and there are no difficult buttons and snaps for these outfits. They are all cloth dolls. I didn't allow Barbies or grown up looking dolls in the house. These dolls are little girls and boys, and they have yarn hair or none. I don't know if this feminist stance did any good or not. I'd say my daughters love clothes and fashion magazines as much as the next person. And they got their share of body self hatred from the culture at large, Barbie or not.
But I tried. And I see my granddaughters' mothers refusing to buy swimsuits that look like showgirl wannabes and avoiding the fluffy ruffles and Disney logos. They are trying to be practical and not push these girls into some premature sexual role. But yesterday someone was telling me about a neighbor who has begun putting her little girl, at five, into beauty pageants. A ton of makeup, provocative poses, the whole nine yards. It was deeply depressing to my friend and I.
There is a world out there where children are bought and sold, prostituted, and without basic human rights. We can't play around with this and just shrug our shoulders and think the one is not connected to the other. They are. And as women, we ought to know better and fight harder to not sexualize little girls. Who will stand up for these children?
But I tried. And I see my granddaughters' mothers refusing to buy swimsuits that look like showgirl wannabes and avoiding the fluffy ruffles and Disney logos. They are trying to be practical and not push these girls into some premature sexual role. But yesterday someone was telling me about a neighbor who has begun putting her little girl, at five, into beauty pageants. A ton of makeup, provocative poses, the whole nine yards. It was deeply depressing to my friend and I.
There is a world out there where children are bought and sold, prostituted, and without basic human rights. We can't play around with this and just shrug our shoulders and think the one is not connected to the other. They are. And as women, we ought to know better and fight harder to not sexualize little girls. Who will stand up for these children?
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